


Hidden

by china_shop



Category: White Collar
Genre: Case Fic, Fic, Gen, Snippets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-29
Updated: 2010-10-29
Packaged: 2017-10-12 22:55:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/130011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/china_shop/pseuds/china_shop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter looked at El. "Two people have died for whatever's in this purse. We need to know why."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hidden

**Author's Note:**

  * For [riazendira](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=riazendira).



> More of a random scene than a ficlet.

"Hi, guys. What are you doing?"

Peter looked up from the clutter on the table to see El drop her coat and laptop on the armchair and come through to the dining room. "Hey, hon. Glad you're home. What here looks out of place for a woman's handbag?"

He gestured at the assortment of business cards and subway passes, gold pens, keys, makeup, sunglasses, tissues and tampons he and Neal were combing through. Well, neither he nor Neal had actually examined the tampons yet—but the rest of the contents of Nora Henderson's purse hadn't revealed any secrets, and they couldn't put it off forever.

"It's hard to say," said El thoughtfully, perusing the scattered items. "The official purse equipment list updates go out so frequently, it's hard to keep up with what's regulation."

Neal paused in dismantling a lipstick and snickered, and Peter sighed. "You know what I mean. Somewhere among all this is some highly commercially sensitive information that—"

"What is it?" asked El, raising her eyebrows.

"We don't know yet," said Neal. "That's what we're trying to find out."

"One of the things we're trying to find out." Peter looked at El. "Two people have died for whatever's in this purse. We need to know why."

"Huh." El sat down at the table and tore open the tampons. They were plastic-wrapped, so it had been obvious there was nothing printed on the wrappers, and from her reaction, the tampons themselves were normal. She looked up and caught Peter's eye. "What?"

"Nothing." Peter tried to exchange glances with Neal, but Neal wasn't playing along. "Nothing. Okay, so we can rule out the—those."

"How on earth has he survived ten years of marriage?" Neal murmured to El.

She shushed him before Peter had to, and surveyed the table again. "Where's the phone?"

"Our tech guys took it to pieces," said Peter. "They didn't find anything."

As he said it, she reached for the keys with their enameled key ring, but she hesitated and picked up a powder compact instead. She opened it, frowning slightly.

"I've already—" Peter started, but there was a click, and the cake of powder slid free onto the table.

Neal put down the lipstick and watched too, while El examined the case. She pried her fingernail into the edge of the container, and a thin translucent disk fell onto the table.

"Nice," said Neal, seeming as impressed by the design as by El's investigation skills.

Peter picked up the disk. It was smooth, translucent and colored in a bright abstract pattern of red, green and yellow. "Could be some kind of code."

"It looks like an oversized earring," said El. "Or maybe a Christmas tree decoration."

"From that perspective, it really looks like stained glass," said Neal, "but—" He reached across and plucked it from Peter's hand, before Peter could stop him, and extracted a plain transparent two-inch square from a slit in the edge of the disk. "Microfiche."

Peter took it back, fleetingly irritated, as if Neal had just given him crossword answers. But this was a team effort. "Good work." He looked at El. "How did you know it was the powder thing?"

"It looks new," she said, as if rationalizing her hunch after the fact. "No scratches."

Neal gave her a smile, and Peter's irritation twisted into something more complicated and subterranean. Something it wasn't safe to examine too closely. He pushed his chair back and stood up. "Come on," he told Neal. "Let's get this checked out." He gave El a quick kiss. "I'll be back home for dinner."

"I'll make sure of it," Neal promised El.

"Okay." El patted Peter's arm as he pulled away. "I'll keep the home fires burning."


End file.
